A warrior's pride and dreams
by bluesilvermetal
Summary: voldemort notices the blood wards, and tries to compensate, he gets it wrong and harrys past life comes back to the fore. crossover harry potter/ff7 crisis core. no pairings as of yet dont know if there will be. rating for violence, much violence
1. a more perceptive Voldemort

author's note: first ever story, will be a crossover with final fantasy crisis core, which will come in next chapter, no slash if you were wondering as i hate that (im male), and there will be lots of fighting and martial arts and powerful magic and general destruction. oh lol, in case you hadent wondered this will be a super harry story, course its also a super voldemort so it all balences out see?

disclaimer: dont own harry potter or final fantasy 7, if its from them someone else owns it, if not, its mine and if you take it without asking ill kill you...maybe not, but i've got a really mean tortoise ill set on you, got it?

reviews might be nice, i dont know. ive never had one before

so welcome one and all to... a warrior's pride and dreams

...

Chapter 1

The tall imposing figure of the Dark Lord Voldemort swept up the stairs of his enemies manor, his powerful foe broken and cooling on the floor behind him. Wreathed in an aura of power shaped by ancient magics of dark purpose, the very air crackled and warped around him as dark malevolence poured into the atmosphere. Such that the brightness and grandeur of the centuries old wizarding home seemed to choke and die in his presence. Bright paintings and patterns on the walls fading and cracking as he passed.

Lord Voldemort's foot, crested the stairs as he moved with implacable grace, casually rolling thirteen and a half inches of yew between thumb and forefinger as sparks of black lightning seemed to dance across his knuckles. He turned his head and followed the bright essence of the child and his mother, the presences behind the baby blue door at the end of the hallway he found himself on.

Six measured strides brought him to the door, senses beyond sight flickering over the door in a cursory examination to ensure the absence of traps or wards. While the Lord's piercing green eyes, illuminated by flickering dark fires within swept across its surface. The cursive script proclaiming "Baby Harry" and the images of prancing fawns brought a small smile to the corner of the Implacable Lord's mouth.

Genuine amusement welled up in him as he pondered the possibility of a supposedly great warrior for the light and the prophesised downfall of himself, arising in such an environment pampered and _loved_, with no fires of adversity to temper him, no hardship to strengthen him. _"Still" _theDark Lord considered _"prophecy is prophecy, and I am not such a fool as to ignore forces that are only somewhat understood",_ he would be thorough in eliminating risks no matter how absurd.

A flex of his will and a shockwave of pure magical force rippled off his black and emerald form, buckling the wall around the door and hurling the door itself from its frame in an explosion of splinters into the room. Voldemort stepped in to the room, leant around the curse thrown his way by the desperate red haired woman in front of the cot and with a negligent wave of his wand, blasted hers into the corner of the room.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed as he studied the woman, tall and fine featured though her features were contorted into a snarl of rage and loss, presumably due to his disposing of her husband downstairs. The woman's powerful aura burned brightly before his mystical senses, snapping and roaring in agitation, fear and anger. Unfortunately for her it was uncontrolled and wild, she evidently had no training in wandless spell casting leaving her defenceless for all her power.

Despite her poor breeding this woman was obviously a witch with great potential and with Voldemort's plans for a new age of unfettered magical progress. She could be valuable.

_"never let it be said that I am not merciful" _Voldemort thought with wry amusement as he opened his mouth and interrupted her babbling "Stand aside you foolish girl, I am only here for the child" he said powerfully. The woman babbled some more but she did not move aside and Voldemort was in somewhat of a hurry, as he wanted to be gone before Dumbledore was able to interrupt. _"Ahh well, I tried"_ he thought laconically as he brushed her out of existence with a careless killing curse, then strode over to stand beside the cot and looked down.

_"So this is the boy who could defeat me?" _he pondered looking at the child, for he knew that of the two born as the seventh month died, young potter had the far stronger parents, despite their lack of true training.

Green eyes widened as he probed the boy with senses, extending his magic to study the boy inside and out _"he is powerful, very powerful for his age, no doubt he would be a high sorcerer on a par with myself given time." _satisfied the boy was without doubt the one he sought, Voldemort was about to brush him away as he did the mother, when he sensed something else, something subtle yet powerful. _"Blood Wards! Perhaps I shouldn't have killed the mother after all, if she had progressed so far. She could have been truly valuable! _He thought in surprise. Blood wards were powerful, and those based on sacrifice were stronger still. Curiously obscure though, he wondered where she had found the information, he would have to have his minions search the house at a later date.

He paused for a few more moments to consider the impact this would have on his casting, the killing curse would do, he concluded, but he would pour as much power as he could into it, to overcome the shield and reinforcement to the weak unformed infant soul, the wards so quickly cast by the dying mother would provide.

So decided, Voldemort gathered the full might of his magical energies to himself, a powerful wind stirred before a visible aura of black and green energy flared around him and the air wavered as if recoiling from the dark being stood within it, the ceiling above the Dark lord started to blacken and shuddering waves of power forced the wooden floor to ripple outwards from his feet, the house to rattle, crashing noises beneath as wells stressed by spell fire collapsed under the strain. The sense of malevolence in the air became suffocating, the child on the bed screamed in terror and Voldemort levelled right arm and wand at the boy, pulsing waves of crimson lightning rippling down the arm from shoulder to magical focus, energy enough to destroy a city, building and growing within the yew wood, as it began to glow with an unearthly green light. Once Voldemort judged it enough and the energy moulded to his purpose he locked his eyes on the squalling infant, and despite the exultant emotional high from feeling power of the magnitude roaring through his body, allowed himself to feel one moment of faint regret before releasing the spell.

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

A blinding torrent of brilliant green soul magic poured from the Dark Lord's wand, the sound of rushing death, hollow winds and barely perceptible screams roared in the ears of Dark Lord and infant, filling their ears and minds as the pillar of light rushed towards the child's head, but just before it would have struck, a blinding golden cage delicate and intricate as a thousand spider webs but shining with the light and power of the sun erupted from the skin of the infant. The pillar of green death magic slammed into the cage with all the force and subtlety of a train crash, much of the energy was deflected in an explosion of power and green sparks, flashing outwards and annihilating the cot and much of the bedroom while the two magical beings stayed locked within a pillar of light and power, the one bent over the other trying to break the golden shield surrounding the screaming infant body as it was held immobile by the duelling energies.

In another world, another time, another Voldemort had not noticed the subtle protection of the blood wards tied into the child's, blood and soul and so had not prepared himself so thoroughly and when the curse and hit the shield and he had thrown his magical might into reinforcing the spell to break through it had taken all he had to break the shield at such short notice and only a fragment of a fragment of the energy of the killing curse had struck the boy, whose soul, reinforced by the power of the blood wards had easily thrown off the energy, which was returned unfocused to the dark lord, and destroying his undefended body in a magical explosion.

This Voldemort was not so unperceptive, with the precharged killing curse many many times more powerful than any thrown before it in history, the shield was almost shattered deflecting only that initial energy and the dark lord more prepared for the defence was quicker and more decisive in throwing more energy into the spell so when the golden shield shattered beneath the power of the killing curse, a far greater quantity of killing energy struck the child beneath.

As the energy tore at the bindings between the child's soul, the reinforcement provided by the blood wards prevented the immediate expulsion of the soul from the body and instead the curse tore at the soul, ripping into and damaging the energies of the immortal essence, loosening it from the body to accomplish its purpose while the soul fought to remain in the body and throw off the curse. But the soul was young and the infant had had few experiences and had never been forced to fight anything, it did not have the strength of will that adversity brought, the will to fight that fighting brings. And so the soul of young Harry Potter was torn and ripped and death was imminent, when the damage done to the soul had a curious affect.

You see some infants do not have a new soul, most do in fact, the vast majority of souls are quite content to rest in one of the various afterlives for eternity (or in the case of hell dimensions unable to leave). Some souls however, were both pure of heart enough to get into a pleasant afterlife without such stringent restrictions and yet are too restless to enjoy everlasting peace, are too eager for the thrills that life has shown them and so choose to return to life, reborn into a new form and their previous identities submerged deep within the soul and a new blank slate is formed. Of these restless souls, the majority are warriors.

So it was that with the power of death tearing at this young soul, that the identity, the form of the soul's past life, came to the surface just briefly, just enough to feel the attack. And this form of the soul knew how to fight, had spent a lifetime fighting, and had grown strong and knew that attack is best met with attack.

The soul threw itself at the attacking energy and bent itself with all the will formed in a lifetime of war to the attack and in doing so the old soul form submerged the new, and energy absorbed by the old soul within its life came with it.

And floating in a pillar of white light, connected via a pillar of green power two feet across to the Dark Lord Voldemort, most powerful Dark Lord in centuries of powerful lords, an infant Harry Potter stopped screaming and his eyes began to glow with green light. Voldemort's eyes widened as the spell so close to completion, stopped.

Then Potter Manor exploded.


	2. returning memories

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: yadda yadda lalala you get the picture

**Chapter 2**

6 years later:

Time continued, the world kept spinning and memories of a past life slowly crept in to fill the ever expanding capabilities of a certain child's brain.

On the edges of the city of London in a small street called Privet Drive, a small child laboured in the garden of number four. Said child was effortlessly and efficiently pulling up weeds but his softly glowing green eyes were unfocused and absent, the boy's mind evidently elsewhere.

_Flashback_

_The small boy huddled by the far wall of the small, stark and sterile room staring fearfully at the door. They were coming he knew, they always did about this time, coming to "study" him they said. Sometimes it was something simple and almost fun even, puzzles and games, lessons and tests on recall, even an obstacle course which was his favourite. Always though, to cast a shadow on his enjoyment was the bespectacled gargoyle in the corner, taking notes and mumbling to itself plotting unspeakable tortures in the names of more "study"._

_It was those tortures he was afraid of now, of being dragged kicking and screaming to the surgical room, of being given muscle relaxants but no sedatives. Just in case they "skewed the baseline results" as they cut and stabbed, peeled back skin and injected foul chemicals, just to watch as yet again he healed without scar or suffered no ill effects._

_The child's lips curled into a sneer at the thought. The expression in his eyes was wild and feral, an animal expression of trapped rage and fear. Abruptly his face smoothed out and he took control of himself firmly, face a blank mask. "I'll control myself tonight, I won't give "__**him"**__ the pleasure of my screams" he stated firmly. He would though, he knew. He always broke eventually but he lasted a little longer each time before giving "__**him" **__his fun._

"_**Him"……..father.**_

_End flashback_

Harry paused in his weeding as the memory passed and joined the rest in the back of his head. They had been coming all his life, unprompted, unsolicited and always a surprise. Each one slowly filled in the blanks of the life he knew he had lived before this one. He knew the memories were real though, he had heard that some people were reborn through the life stream, he just didn't know it happened across different worlds or why he was remembering his last life. He had always been different though.

For he was different, he knew it. He was smarter, stronger, and faster even than the other SOLDIERs, elite warriors though they were, his senses were more acute and he even needed less sleep. He was _made _to be different he knew, to be the best, to be special. He remembered that much, he couldn't remember why yet but he was sure he would have learned it before his death so he was content to wait

"Boy! Get in here!" sounded the shrill voice of his aunt. He rose and turned gracefully to regard her, she was standing just inside the door looking impatient looking impatient. He shrugged and walked inside making sure to wipe his feet; the punishment if he didn't was inconsequential next to the tortures he remembered but annoying nonetheless.

"We're having bangers and mash tonight" she told him, pointing imperiously at the kitchen "now get on with it" as he strode past towards the kitchen he couldn't suppress the flare of irritation that rose within him _obnoxious old hag _he thought savagely _when I have my strength back I'm going to enjoy leaving this place, maybe I'll kick it down as a leaving present?_ With that pleasant thought to distract him he finished making the supper and served himself a portion before retiring to his room to eat in peace.

As he entered he glanced around in derision before setting the plate down on the small desk he'd had to repair after Dudley had destroyed it. _The smallest bedroom in the house naturally, still it's better than the cupboard at least. Honestly I was beginning to think they intended for me to spend my whole second childhood in there! _ He thought with a mixture of wry amusement and disgust thinking back to the firm stance he had been forced to take with all the weight of the great General's glare behind him. Luckily it had served just as well for cowing unruly relatives as it had for cowing unruly soldier recruits… except for young Zackary Fair but nothing he'd found had ever managed to cow that particular menace to society. Now at least he was left mostly to himself except for chores and he refused point blank to do any of the make-work they attempted to set him at first, it was entertaining to have the SOLDIER recruits digging holes then filling them in again all day, he had no intention of doing it himself!

As he contemplated this he began to eat, his mood slipping slightly as he remembered a few troubling flashes of memory he'd had recently. There had been nothing substantial but one of them was of Zack looking furious and _betrayed_ in a way he'd not seen since he had found out Angeal, the boy's mentor had turned on Shinra and betrayed all of them. _Is it possible there had been another betrayal amongst the soldier first classes? _He pondered concerned despite himself for the last man he could consider a friend who remained with him in SOLDIER. _It does not seem that likely _he decided to himself _his only close friends after Angeal died were myself, his girlfriend, the Turk girl Cissnei and his little recruit friend Cloud Strife. _He ate another bite slowly and idly noted that his years of forced servitude with his relatives in this life were improving his culinary skills.

_I certainly wasn't about to betray Shinra unless they betrayed me first if nothing else I would remain a loyal SOLDIER despite my misgivings about the companies direction. Cissnei? No, I highly doubt that girl would turn, she enjoyed being a Turk far too much. The girlfriend? Hmmm, that's definitely a possibility, he did seem highly infatuated and I never met her myself. Cloud is highly unlikely to be it though, he practically worshipped the ground Zack walked on, not surprising considering the difference in their ranks though. _He pondered before _the girlfriend then must have left him, a shame he was planning on asking him to marry him as I recall. _With that last thought he put the subject out of his mind, satisfied that there was likely nothing too dire waiting in the memories he had yet to regain. He polished off his meal with gusto. Afterwards he sat back to read a book on world politics he had picked up from the library in his ongoing quest to understand this new world he found himself in. Good intelligence was life for any SOLDIER after all.

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Petunia Dursley sat contentedly at the dining table looking at her wonderful husband and handsome son eating with their traditional healthy appetite and enthusiasm. _Life couldn't really be any better _she mused to herself _oh we have to take care of Lily's brat but he realises he isn't wanted and keeps out of sight, really the chores he does free up enough of my time for it to be almost worth it, I never liked cooking anyway._

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_Authors note: yup its our favourite silver haired overly powerful bad guy, but he doesn't remember that bit what will happen when he does? Mwahaha!_

_To my one and only reviewer (you know who you are) I had a bit of trouble thinking of how to continue this story from here but you inspired me and it was done half an hour later._

_Much more and longer chapters to come ladies and gentlemen_


	3. returning strength and Hagrid

A storm blew high above the great city of London in the hours before dawn

Disclaimer: I own it all! Mwahahaha! No really I do, and if you don't like it. Take it up with the savage man eating tortoise……yeah I thought not

Chapter 3

A storm blew high above the great city of London in the hours before dawn. Mighty clouds hung dark and ominous, releasing the fury of nature in booming arcs of lightning, howling winds and torrents of rain.

Hanging suspended just below the clouds was a dark figure, floating where the storm's rage was greatest with arms outstretched and face raised to the swirling tempest above. Rain and wind beat against the figure, smashing against bare chest and running down long hair.

Energy crackled through the warrior's form, a crushing pressure of heat and light and crashing power that roared through and out of the levitating being. Flooding the air around him, the power pulses off him in waves of distortion shot through with flashing electrical discharges as lightning explodes around him. The storm seemingly rages at being matched, wind and rain lashing harder against the figure as lighting thunders louder and faster around him.

Sephiroth 11 year old reborn warrior of Shinra grit his teeth as he matched the storm, sweat swept away by the driving waters of the storm even as it formed, body trembling as he forced all his power through it to battle nature's fury. Exhaustion rose in him but he fought on, riding a wave of exhilaration and savage joy at having regained a measure of his former strength and abilities. _I am a being of power once more _he stated within himself _I have regained my strength, my pride_ Green glowing eyes shone like a spotlight with power and wild emotion. Lips curled into a savage grin

"I am Sephiroth!" he roared to the swirling storm "And I am a SOLDIER again!"

He laughed and drew forth more power before closing his eyes and hurling himself into the storm, instantly the winds grew more intense battering and buffeting him but he fought on and through until finally he broke through the cloud layer just as light from the rising sun illuminated the tops of the clouds. He paused there, as the sky lightened and turned to gold and red in the peace above the storm, feeling contented momentarily as he had not in the past decade while he pieced together his memories and trained frantically to regain his power.

Sephiroth waited a moment longer then allowed gravity to take hold. In seconds he had passed back through the clouds and into the driving storm and was hurtling down towards privet drive once more. A flare of his power slowed the rapidly approaching ground and curved his fall towards one particular garden until with a muted thud, he landed in a barefooted crouch on the lawn of the Dursely's home.

A final longing glance towards the sky and then he was striding into the house. A quick shower later and after a thorough wringing out a sodden pair of black pyjama trousers were dumped into his wash bin, he was preparing for the day ahead. Once dressed in black jeans and long sleeved t-shirt (not his leather armour unfortunately but that was hardly suitable attire for an 11 year old boy) he was busy preparing breakfast for himself and the rest of the family as was his custom due to the fact that he was always up and about well before the rest of the household.

Grabbing his own plate and leaving the rest on the kitchen table, he only stopped to pick up the letter addressed to him from the doormat as he made his way to his bedroom.

Sephiroth settled by his desk and casually flipped open the letter noting as he did the old fashioned parchment and wax seal then read the letter while eating with the other hand. When he had finished both he sat back to consider the contents of the letter in mild surprise _So magic exists here after all, and they have entire schools devoted to its instruction? How curious to warrant so much instruction it must be a great deal more complicated than the material based manipulation I am acquainted with _Sephiroth raised his hand to rub his jaw as he pondered the possible gains to his power by studying an entirely new branch of magic. Quickly coming to the conclusion that the potential gains far outweighed any benefit he may gain by staying in the traditional schooling systems (which he had gone along with so far to learn about his new world) he looked the letter over for information on how to respond positively yet only finding the cryptic comment "we await your owl"

Brow furrowed as he attempted to work out the hidden meaning in that statement he eventually gave up and simply sketched out a quick letter to the headmaster before placing it in an envelope using the address on the second sheet of parchment and fishing out a first class stamp from his drawer.

Returning downstairs he went to inform his "guardians" about his upcoming transfer to Hogwarts and found himself surprised at the expression of deepest loathing that flashed across his aunt's face.

"Aunt Petunia, are you familiar with this school?" he asked with a slightly raised eyebrow. Petunia's face twisted in something like bitterness _jealousy?_ Before she replied in a strained tone

"Yes, it's the school that both of your parents attended Harry, they select pupils based on some inborn talent to use this _magic_" she told him, practically hissing the final word. "Still it will get you out of our hair for most of the year so I won't object" she told him after a moment of thought.

This was a viewpoint that Sephiroth could share, while he had no problems with his family in this life anymore (he had grown more imposing as he grew and regained his memories and presence), there was no love lost between them (he might possibly be mildly fond of Dudley he admitted grudgingly to himself) and it would be good to get away from the indifference here, he had grown accustomed to being respected and admired or feared wherever he went and it was… galling to actually be looked down on even if it was not overt.

A few more questions enlightened him to the fact that the letter had meant the nocturnal birds in its mention of owls but that his solution would work as well (it was how letters to his mother had been sent when she attended the school) and that if he added to his letter a request for a guide to the magical world, one would be provided for his shopping.

It was the work of moments to add a post script to the letter and then he jogged up to the local post office to send it. With the interruption to his normal routine dealt with he returned to his physical training and that of Dudley, who had been joining him for training since Sephiroth noticed the child was suffering from an appalling lack of discipline, self or otherwise and took it upon himself to correct with SOLDIER cadet based training. The boy and his parents had only complained till Dudley began to win every event he entered at school sports days although that was only because Sephiroth would never deign to compete against school children. Sephiroth was pleased with the strong, proud and honourable lad the boy was growing into and even more pleased with the fact that he had something of a sparring partner insufficient as he was.

_Speaking of which_ Sephiroth mused… **Thud**!

"You left your guard open on the left again Dudley" he stated calmly. Dudley pulled his face out of the 6 inch impression in the mud and grass of the park it had been forced into and glared half heartedly as he unsteadily rose to his feet before shaking his head and firming his stance, this time without a hole Sephiroth noted happily

"Did you have to do that Harry?" Dudley asked him unhappily as his eyes darted over Sephiroth's form looking for an opening he could exploit. In vain apparently as he shifted back into a defensive stance obviously waiting for Sephiroth to attack instead. Allowing a small smirk to cross his face Sephiroth obliged

Dudley managed to avoid two strikes and block a third before…** Thud!** "Oof!" While waiting for his student to get up Sephiroth sighed happily in his mind _Training, the best form of stress release ever invented._

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A week later

Sephiroth was sitting cross legged in the garden of number 4, his family had all left for work or shopping and he was using the time he had alone to attempt a technique he had yet to be able to accomplish in this lifetime. After spent a while building his energy till it was pounding through his body and sending small electrical discharges over his skin. He then spent several seconds visualising the form of his trusty Masamune, the great sword that had served him faithfully for his entire career, holding onto every detail and dimension in his mind.

Taking a deep breath he released all the energy he could through his hands while holding onto that image and for one glorious moment green flames erupted in the air in front of him and he thought he had succeeded but his power exhausted itself before the sword could be made solid and the flash of green flame dissipated leaving him frustrated and tired.

Pushing himself to his feet he put his most recent failure out of his mind before walking into the house to get a drink. A thunderous knock on the front door interrupted his search for a glass.

Striding to the door he threw it open and then for his visitor's face, then he looked up and up again before finally finding a bearded smiling face a good 9 feet above the ground. Arching an eyebrow he spoke to the frankly oversized man in a moleskin coat before him

"Can I help you?" the giant startled out of his rather obvious assessment and with eyes crinkling in a cheerful smile, spoke

"Oh right course, me name is Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Key's and Grounds at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and I'm ere to take you shopping for yer school supplies Harry" Sephiroth nodded calmly in response _how curious, I wonder if unusual height is a common wizard trait _he wondered idly as he stepped out before locking the door behind himself.

"Let's be off then" he stated "I was informed by my aunt that my parents set up some sort of trust fund for this purpose and that the school would know how to access it?" Again the giant smiled despite seeming somewhat surprised by the 11 year olds composure

"Not a problem Harry, I got yer Gringotts key righ' ere" he stated handing over a small golden key while saying "now you look after that lad, its more fuss than it's worth to have to replace em if you lose yer key" Sephiroth nodded, pocketing the item and after inquiring found out that they would be travelling via "portkey" to the leaky cauldron which was apparently a portal to the Diagon Alley which was mentioned in his letter.

One thoroughly unpleasant yet enlightening ride later found Sephiroth standing by a pub holding a sock, the strangeness of the situation not damping his flare of delight that the first piece of this new magic he was exposed to was something thoroughly impossible with the magic he was familiar with giving him high hopes for the worth of this endeavour.

Before he could enter the building however he found himself being held back by a serious looking Hagrid

"Now I don' know what yer muggle family have told you about why you were with them and what happened to yer parents but I'd better go over the whole story so you aren' surprised by how people act alright?" And before a thoroughly surprised Sephiroth he explained the events of the night of his parent's death and the resulting fame of the "Boy-who-lived"

With the story and warning complete Sephiroth, Harry Potter the Boy-Who-Lived himself re-entered the wizarding world.


	4. Worrying dreams and Dudley's strength

Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Ah ah ah! Tortoise! ........... His name is Tim in case you wondered.

Authors note: sorry about the wait, I've started university (electronic engineering) so free time for writing is sparse to say the least. That said I'm not quitting because I've always thought this story should be told but anyone who wants to send in thoughts/ideas/point out errors in my writing, it may well speed the next chapter. Without further ado, Chapter 4.

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_Darkness, pain.... whirling colours and distorted voices. Screaming in the distance, too far away to focus on, too warped to recognise the words in it, to distant to recognise anything but terror and anguish and hate. But he knows it is an attack, he knows something is trying to bend him, to break him, it slipped in his weakness and now it seeks to bind him._

_He roars, he summons power to tear his enemy asunder, lashing out in all directions. Blade and fire and lightning but it doesn't work. The enemy, the VOICE it's in his head, blood on his hands, burning heat on his skin. Smoke and ashes fill the air, drifting and choking. It's not right, it's not RIGHT! Blood and smoke, fire and ashes, hate and fear and above it all the crushing pressure of the voice! In the madness and the fire and smoke he sees a face, a recognisable face! Grabbing hold of it for all he is worth he fights to focus, to understand._

_The Puppy, Friend, Brother, Zack! It's Zack, surrounded by devastation, a village of flames and corpses and rubble. Something isn't right, where is the enemy, who did this!?_

_He wants to know, wants to fight, to crush the enemy who did this to his people, but he can't think, can't think underneath the noise, the pressure, the voice...... __**get out of my head!**_

_He loses focus, the maelstrom rushes in. He fights it but can't keep it at bay._

_Something is wrong, terrifyingly, horribly wrong._

He wakes, startled green eyes snapping open. The darkened bedroom of privet drive is bathed in soft mako light. He pushes back with one hand on the bed, raising his upper body upright. And for the first time in years, Sephiroth felt a cold shiver of fear slide up his spine.

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Swinging his legs off the bed he stood and strode to the window. It was dark still, not even close to dawn yet he knew he would get no more sleep that night. Instead he knelt, breathing deeply and rhythmically he calmed himself and ran the dream through in his mind. He studied the disturbing vision from all angles, trying to let no detail go unnoticed though it seemed to slip through his mental fingers like smoke and evaded his attempts to resolve it. Eventually he gave up, the vision or dream had been too confused. If it were a memory he had probably been heavily drugged or injured though it was more likely just a disturbing dream, Gaia knew all soldiers had their fair share.

Still his disquiet lingered so he attempted to think of a way to occupy himself till morning and the beginning of his journey to Hogwarts. Sephiroth padded over to his new trunk and spent a few minutes checking that all necessary belongings were packed and ready to go to occupy himself while he thought.

He lingered for a moment over his new text books but dismissed the thought of reading them because he may wake his family which would be somewhat im...polite...._hmmm._

He straightened and gazed with narrowed mako eyes in the direction of Dudley's room, _while my student has been doing well in his training perhaps this would be a good time for one final little test_ he thought and the corner of his mouth curved into a devilish smirk.

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In the calm darkness of Dudley's bedroom the lad lay face down on his bed, deep in dreams of battle, glory and chocolate cake. A peaceful smile was firmly imprinted on his face and the boy was utterly content in his slumber.

So deep was he in the arms of Morpheus that he was utterly unaware of the shadow that prowled in his room as it moved like a ghost to the windows and opened them wide. He was also blissfully unaware as the shadowed figure approached and leant over him.

As the figure grabbed the boy from the bed, Dudley found himself jerked awake, only to feel a crushingly powerful arm around his neck and a hand across his mouth, then his stomach almost left him as he felt a surge of massive acceleration and the hands release him before he felt nothing but wind rushing over his body and a curious feeling of weightlessness. At this point Dudley managed to open his eyes, blink blearily and look around only to find himself shocked into complete and total wakefulness by the jet of pure fear that flooded him as he found himself 20 feet up above the streets of his hometown and steadily accelerating towards the ground.

He didn't think, he didn't have time to panic, he simply acted as long hours of training had engrained into him, the boy's life force exploded through his body practically of its own accord, blasting strength into his limbs before he simply tucked forward into a somersault then straightened out just in time to land neatly on his feet before his momentum hurled him forward into a controlled rolling fall.

He came up fast as he had been taught by his cousin before freezing as his mind caught up with his body and surprise that he was still alive flooded him. His distraction cost him as a booted foot caught him about the face, snapping his head to his left before a fist arced up into his midriff, blasting the air from his lungs before he dropped to the ground.

Instinct caught the kick heading towards his face as he lay on the floor, a slightly more focused mind caught the one aimed at his stomach and he fully intended it when he wrenched the caught limb into a viscous twist that should have planted his attacker face first into the concrete. Instead his opponent jumped with his supporting leg, twisted about the leg as he turned it and lashed out with his uncaptured leg to Dudley's face.

Dudley staggered back, eyes watering and black spots streaking across his vision in time with the spike of pain, not deterred he raised his blurry, tear filled and unfocused eyes at the uncertain shape that was his opponent, before roaring and hurling himself towards them. He didn't know who this was, why they had attacked him or how they got into his room, but he was awake and livid now and he was going to make this bastard **pay! **His outstretched hands reached for his attacker but he found them both caught in a powerful grip, he improvised and smashed his forehead forwards into his opponents face, eliciting a muffled grunt and one of his hands came free.

He drove his fist at the guys head and was unsurprised when it was batted aside but went with the motion turning into the body of his opponent before looping his free hand around his foe's waist he twisted into a hip throw, driving him towards the ground but found himself being pulled forwards as the attacker twisted impossibly in mid air pulling Dudley underneath him as he fell. Dudley hit hard, his breath being driven out of him as his opponent landed on his chest.

Gasping he reached for his opponents face but froze in shock as glowing green eyes burned into him

"Harry!" he cried in shock as best he could with his cousin's weight on his chest before "**Harry!!!** What the hell was all that for!?" he cried again although in anger this time. Harry just laughed softly with real amusement in his eyes then stood and pulled Dudley to his feet in one smooth and graceful motion.

"It was a test Dudley, one you passed if you are wondering" he stated while his face smoothed into its normal expression. "I wished to see if you had absorbed what I have taught you or whether I had wasted my time these last few years trying to make a SOLDIER out of you" he continued "I wanted to see whether you had the spirit of a warrior, to see if you could react as you had been trained under real emotional stress, to be thrown out of your comfort zone, be beaten savagely with no idea what was going on and for you to get up, shake it off and fight me. In short I wanted to see if you were ready Dudley" he stopped and looked him over from head to toe, noting the bruises, torn clothes and scraped arms from his fall but the boy stood tall and strong gazing into his eyes with no fear or sign of weakness. Sephiroth smiled in satisfaction and nodded once sharply. "Welcome to SOLDIER cousin."

He then turned and strode back towards the house leaving a dumbfounded Dudley in his wake. The boy stood still for thirty seconds longer before a large grin blossomed slowly across his face as a powerful awed pride began to burn in his chest, his cousin had been telling him stories about the strength and honour of the SOLDIER all his life. They had become a symbol of all he wanted to be and now he'd been handed his wildest dream out of the blue.

Dudley slowly walked back to the house bruised, battered yet unbowed... every inch a SOLDIER. And as he sprang back into his open window and climbed back into his bed a new goal occurred to him, he had achieved the impossible once, what was to stop him doing it again _I will be a_ f_irst class SOLDIER one day _ he promised himself, a smirk on his lips _and one day, I'll be __**legend!**_

..................................................................................................................

Sephiroth made his way back to his room surprised and very pleased at the results of his little test, the boy had proven far stronger than he imagined, the boy had been holding back whether consciously or not in training. He was strong, at the level of the weakest of third classes which was stunningly impressive without the mako enhancements of the original SOLDIER program, with them he would most likely be at lower 2nd class level nowhere near his own current low 1st class level but better than most SOLDIERs 6 years his senior and certainly worthy.

He would just have to make sure to remind the boy to not hold back in future sparring and not to slack off while he was away, he had rather enjoyed that fight.


End file.
